His Uncle's Arms
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: Thorin receives some late-night visitors, and makes some unexpected discoveries. Post-The Hobbit.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Written as a fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

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His Uncle's Arms

Thorin drifted to consciousness slowly. His chamber was dark, quiet, and still. Groggily he frowned. What had wakened him from his pleasant, deep sleep...?

The king grew aware of something warm curled into his chest, trembling under the covers. Cautiously, he reached out, his hand brushing the sleeve of a night shirt. Upward his fingers traveled, over a curled arm, a tense shoulder, and finally encountered an almost beardless cheek.

"...Kili?" Thorin grunted, surprised, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see better in the darkness.

His nephew jerked, a tiny squeak escaping his lips, and pressed closer to his uncle.

"I'm sorry, unc- Thorin, sorry, I..." his voice sounded like he was fighting back tears. Drawing a ragged breath, Kili started to pull back to slip out of the bed.

Something clutched in Thorin's chest. Perhaps it was due to his nephew's voice sounding so small and lost; or the knowledge he and his brother had not called him "uncle," only addressing him by his proper name, since they swore to follow him on his quest; maybe it was waking up with Kili beside him like a little dwarfling seeking comfort during a thunderstorm - decades it had been since that last happened. Whatever it was, without thinking the king firmly drew his nephew back to his chest and into a hug.

Kili stilled in shock for long moment, and then relaxed, shyly returning the embrace.

"You are safe, Kili. You are home," Thorin said quietly, feeling out of his element. So long he had been a leader, a prince in exile, and now a king, that he had forgotten how to be an uncle he realized. (Barely during the journey had he acknowledged the special bond he shared with Fili and Kili, he now recalled with a lingering pang of guilt.)

He frowned as he felt the young dwarf shake his head several times, and brought one hand up to awkwardly pat Kili's head gently.

"_You_ were not," the words came out muffled and frightened.

Thorin froze and his eyes widened in shock.

Kili's hands formed fists tightly in his uncle's shirt. "The fire took you...Azog, the spiders, the battle...they all took you. It seemed so real. I had to see if you-" his voice cracked and he buried his face in the dwarf's chest.

Thorin reeled. A nightmare about Fili, his mother, even his father he had suspected, would have understood. _But fear for himself..._

"I feared I lost you."

There was a burning lump in the back of his throat, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against the rare wetness forming. He tightened his hold on Kili.

"You did not," he said, roughly, hoarsely.

The verbal confirmation seemed to break the lingering doubts and fears hanging over Kili. He sighed deeply, the tension slipping away from his body, and he lifted his face to peer up at Thorin, making his face out in the dark. Carefully Thorin brought his forehead to rest against Kili's in a dwarf kiss. He sensed more than saw his nephew's smile.

"Sleep," he ordered, settling them both into a more comfortable position under the covers. Feeling Kili's nod, he sighed and closed his eyes. _Sleep_, he told himself. The next moment the air was stolen from his lungs and his heart pounded.

"I love you, Uncle Thorin."

It took several tries before the king found his tongue. "And I you," he whispered to the sleeping Kili.

Some time later the glow of soft light caused Thorin to open his eyes. The sight of Fili entering the chamber with a candle did not surprise him at all. No matter where Kili went Fili was always following not far behind.

"I came to check on Kili. Thought he may have come here when I didn't find him in his room," Fili explained quietly when he was near, setting the candle on the bedside table.

Thorin nodded. Yet he noted Fili's gaze rested far more on him than his brother, and the shadows which gradually faded from his eyes, the color returning to his cheeks. Swallowing thickly, wordlessly he held out the arm not wrapped around Kili. His nephew did not need a second hint, quickly getting into the bed, a sigh signaling his content as he settled into his uncle's other side. When Thorin touched his forehead to his, Fili returned the gesture, his gaze both serious and smiling.

"Thank you, uncle," he breathed, eyes closing.

Warmth filling his chest, Thorin slipped his arm around his eldest nephew. He gazed between him and his brother wonderingly before allowing his own eyes to shut.

_"Fili and Kili swore to follow you always."_

_"They are loyal."_

_"They **love** you."_

His nephews' warm (and safe) presence surrounding him, the look in their eyes, their words - "_uncle_" - confirmed Bilbo's long-ago comment in Rivendell. And Thorin could only wonder as he hugged them close, _What did I do to deserve this?_

_"They love you..."_

THE END


End file.
